Lock and Key
by Lost in the Mix
Summary: At ten years old, she was older than she really was, searching for the love and affection she had never received from her dysfunctional family. At ten years old, she found him, the boy who would understand, even when her heart was under lock and key.


**Disclaimer: Hey Arnold!© is a product of Craig Bartlett and not of my own creation. The story plot, though, is all of my own.**

At ten years old, she was older than she really was, searching for the love and affection she had never received from her dysfunctional family. At ten years old, she found him, the boy who would understand, even when her heart was under lock and key.

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**1.**

The night was dreary, and beckoning on those seeds of doubt at the very recesses of every single person's mind, hidden behind the scenes, though always lingering; always lingering, in the back of your mind, waiting to slip back into the forefront; to glimmer like a neon sign, attracting all sorts of attention, like one of those loud, and obnoxious carnival attractions. _It's cold._ The thought entered her mind, as swiftly as the wind blew her flimsy wind-breaker, her temperature decreasing, and her teeth beginning to chatter incessantly. _Yet, I can feel nothing._ That was the reality of it all.

The frost attacked her with its icy bitterness and still, she could not bring herself to get up and walk away- to walk away from it all and to run away, never once to look back and delve into such a past. She was not a coward- far from it, though she was afraid, afraid to speak up and be heard, afraid of the possible consequences that she knew would pop up once the truth was finally leaked out. The _truth_. The truth was she was just a ten year old little girl, trying to survive in the big, wide world, all by her lonesome. Her eyes were always guarded, just as her emotions were, the walls she had built around her heart, built high and strong, to last as long as she lived, or at least that is what she hoped.

Always unhappy, living in fear, anger, and anguish, she had learned to care for herself and only herself, making due to survive. Those whom she had surrounded herself with; their lives went on, so oblivious to the pain that she was in, day in and day out. No one would care once they knew, she always reasoned; she had made it that way. After all, she was nothing, but a _bully_. A fighter, with no strings attached. _I feel so numb._

Closing her eyes shut, and holding back her tears, the young girl took in a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling quietly. "Helga?" She did not even have to turn around to see who had disturbed her peace of mind. She could already picture him, standing there with that adorable mixture of concern and confusion expression, wanting to know what was wrong, to somehow help her, if she would just let him in. It was just too bad that she had decided a long time ago, that she was to live through the pain on her own. He was a good person, always trying to single-handedly save the world, his smile shining down on her, easily melting the ice around her heart.

This is why she had chosen _him_. She had chosen him out of the whole entire world, to give her whole entire heart to and yet, he just did not know it yet. She was afraid of being rejected, of him adding to her pain, of having her small, and empty void inside of her heart increasing tenfold and enveloping the organ, shattering it with no remorse, leaving her a shell of even the person she had come to portray herself as, around in the eyes of everyone whom she had ever known. It was her safe haven, her façade. She was afraid to let him in, because she knew, that if he found out the truth about her, if he found the real her, he would not like what he saw. She did not act the way she did because she was selfish and didn't care about anyone, but herself, no. It was because she cared too much.

_Even if you knew the truth, you can't save me, Arnold._ Pulling her jacket closer around herself, and placing her mitten-covered hands into her pockets, she opened her eyes and chanced a look behind her. Azure eyes met emerald, causing the young blonde-haired Pataki to look away, hiding her already rosy cheeks from the cold. She knew that they weren't just red from being outside on the frosty winter night.

The young boy, who stood behind her, took a few steps forward, obvious hesitance in each step, as he made his way toward the one girl he could never seem to read. She was like a puzzle, to him, an enigma. Every time he seemed close enough to solving the riddle that she was, she would do something or say something that would throw him off course, and he would have to start all over again, once more, his mind boggling over who she really was, over who Helga Geraldine Pataki was, the real girl behind the façade that he put up with, day in and day out.

He wanted so badly to be let in, but she put up quite a fight. She was a force to be reckoned with, fierce and strong, a warrior down to her core. And yet, her heart was kept hidden away from prying eyes, especially his, and he suspected that she kept it heavily guarded, by lock and key. The question that always plagued him the most, out of all the others, was **why**? What gave her reason to hide? Why would she hide from him who she was when all he ever wanted to do was get to know her, and help her as best as he could? _Why Helga, why?_ He silently asked her, wondering if she was cold in that flimsy jacket of hers. His own, big and warm jacket was wrapped securely around him, and he felt a surge of guilt, suddenly self-loathing himself. He was warm and she wasn't.

He was happy and yet her happiness always seemed to be short-lived, her façade falling away for just a short amount of time, before she realized what was happening and it was put back into place, this time acting even more. She wanted to persuade those around her that she did not need them; she was too tough, she was too strong, she was just a bully and she wanted to make you live, and breathe that fact, but he knew better. She needed someone and he wanted to be that _someone_. He wanted to help her. No, he _needed_ to help her. She attracted him so effortlessly with her riddles and her façade, her rocky exterior, and yet the promise and potential of such a sensitive, loving person behind all of the lies she made people think just beneath the surface of who she was.

"Even you can't save me, Arnold." Her tired voice entered his ears, issuing an unspoken challenge. Finally, closing what was left of the distance between them, he reached out to touch her, though paused, his eyes aflame with such sincerity and determination. "Yes," His voice came out, strong and soft, a whisper that meant so much to the young girl before him. The doubt was eating away at her insides, though a small sliver of hope had been created. It was small, mind you, but it was all she needed, for now. "I can." She turned around then, defiantly staring at him, a mixture of a look of sadness and defeat adorning her face. _Even you can't save me from myself._ Her thoughts seemed to echo in the settled silence around them, save for the whistling wind, as it rustled their winter arrays of clothing, whipping their hair into the air. And, he met her gaze, never once looking away, his own thoughts firing back. He would fight for her. She was worth it. _I will do everything in my power to understand you, and to save you, even from yourself._


End file.
